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Up All Night - Impure Fantasies

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I wanted to pull her to my body and kiss her tonight before she left the Batcave.

It was hard to keep myself under control, but with strong discipline, I succeeded in not standing too close to her.

Just.  Barely.

How much longer I can control myself and my actions, well, I can't actually say.

Of course, I know she's had a kind of hero-worship fixation on me, and until now I had it all under tight control. 

God, so tight, just like her seemingly painted-on costume fits her so perfectly.

It's some type of supple fabric that stretches snugly across her curves.

I see much more than I should when she wears it, and it brings me too many dark and dangerous fantasies, fantasies that involve abolishing my self-control and doing all manner of salacious things to her.

I imagine tasting her blushing lip gloss. 

Kissing those moist-looking lips.

Exploring her mouth with mine.

Ripping away her thin flimsy costume.

Touching, tormenting her bare skin.

I understand that the consensual age is 17 in Gotham... 

How old is she now, anyway, 17, 18?

Does she wear those innocent-looking pastel-colored underwear, I wonder, as my cock hardens.

Is it cotton or lace?

Silk or nylon?

I do like silk, it feels so soft and warm to the touch.

Is she still innocent and intact, I wonder?

Has she already had her first kiss, first feel, first . . .


It's completely inappropriate, she's a kid for God's sake!

I need a cold shower...

or better yet, a good hard wank in the shower.

While thinking of her.

Nude, revealed, ready to learn.

She's already learned volumes from our training.

I could educate her in the ways of Tantric Sex.

Or the Kama Sutra.

I've learned from the best.

I could...

I could...

Oh, God!

My cock is spurting all over my fist.

Shit, she's going to notice if I have an erection around her even with my jock armor. 

My senses are still excited, more, I need more!

I get a bathrobe and switch on the computer, shuffling to the recordings folder, scanning for any footage of her in the cave.

I zoom in and stare at her tits and those hardened little nips of hers as I slide my hand faster and faster.



I use my bathrobe to mop up.

I feel terrible for harboring thoughts like these.

Then, I imagine those solid nipples of hers in my mouth as I stroke and lick and tease her until she whimpers.

I want to kiss her for several long consecutive minutes.

In my mind, she's breathless and gasping, but she doesn't pull away from me.

I quickly strip her naked and lay her on the gym mat as I tease and touch her.

She moans, eyes half-closed.


Maybe I do need a fast fuck from someone, it's never hard for me to find a willing partner, and besides, I can't possibly see her again tomorrow in this uncomfortable condition.

I need this badly, I'm desperate.

I dress and hit the clubs downtown.

I scope out a joint and find a pretty redhead sitting alone at the bar.

I walk over and ask, "Mind if I join you for a drink?" 

As she turns her barstool toward me and smiles, I blanch, shocked.

It's her, it's Barbara, what the hell is she doing here?

Does she carry a fake ID card?

I look down.

She's having a can of soda, and I'm feeling immediately relieved.

"Uh, I'm so sorry, I thought you might be someone else," I manage to say, leaving out saying 'someone older'. I get up to leave

"Wait, I know you!" she says brightly, with recognition.

What? I've got to think fast...

"You're my father's friend, it's Bruce Wayne, right?"

"Uh, yes, I was surprised to see you here, " I manage to answer while trying not to stutter.